


You Ever Wonder Why We're Here?

by Iost



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Arguing, Banter, Donut is a fanboy, Fanboying, Fluff, Holding Hands, Light Angst, M/M, Questions, Quiet, Simmons wishes alot, What Was I Thinking?, forgetting tags, kind of occ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 08:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5701705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iost/pseuds/Iost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons asked the question before, he just, wanted to ask it again. Just, a little differently this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Ever Wonder Why We're Here?

**Author's Note:**

> No WiFi  
> On phone

Surprisingly, it was Simmons who made the first move. They were standing on the top of Red Base, not really doing anything, but standing there.

It took a lot of confidence for Simmons, to reach out and grip his teammates hand. He couldn't tell if Grif tensed or not, judging by the armor. He's not sure if he wanted to know either.

But, Grif didn't pull away. He didn't say anything either, he just squeezed the maroon armored man's hand softly. The Dutch-Irish let's out a breath of relief.

“Hey.” He says, nibbling on his lip slightly. Grif hums, before answering.

“Yeah?” Simmons isn't sure if it's just a greeting or a question. He decides to take a risk, and go with it being a question.

“You ever wonder why we're here?” He repeats his words, from years ago. Simmons doesn't know entirely why he asked it, but he doesn't know about a lot of things. He hated admitting that.

It takes awhile for Grif to reply, Simmons hopes he doesn't say the same answer he said years ago. But then again, he kinda hopes he does.

He wants Grif to be happy, and not question God. But he also wants Grif to be, the same old fatass he knew years ago. Back when everything was okay.

He wants Donut to not make sexual comments, he wants Sarge to call Blues dirty, he wants Freelancers to not be in their life (although Washington is kinda cool), he wants AI’s to not exist, he wants Tucker to scream ‘bow chika bow wow’ across the base, he wants Church to be a real person.

He seems to want a lot of things.

The maroon soldier almost misses his teammates answer. He's glad he didn't.

“It's one of life's great mysteries, isn't it?" Simmons' heart drops to the floor.

"But, no.” Grif pauses, and Simmons can almost imagine the soft smile on the orange armored man's face. “Not anymore.”

They end it like that, not wanting to continue the conversation. The silence isn't awkward, it's quite comfortable for once.

But it was slightly nerving. It was never quiet. Sarge was either yelling at Grif, or Donut was doing Donut things, or they'd be able to hear the Blues yelling at each other at their base.

But they couldn't hear anything.

They couldn't really bring themselves to care.

“Hey… Simmons?” Grif asks, Simmons turns to look at him, and is glad the orange soldier isn't looking at him.  
“What's up?” He asks, looking away from the Hawaiian man. Grif coughs lightly.

“You ever wonder why we're here?” He asks, repeating Simmons’ question, this time. The maroon soldiers breath catches, for a moment before he replies.  
“No. Never did.” Simmons feels Grif’s hand tighten around his own, and he wonders what the larger man is thinking. Hopefully nothing about food, but he wouldn't be surprised if it was. Fatass.

“How come?” The Hawaiian asks, and Simmons’ breath catches again. This time, he's not sure what he should say. Then, it hits him.

“Because… because I feel like we belong here. With… with each other.” Grif’s hand tightens even more on his own, it's almost painful, almost.

Neither of them notice Donut, fanboying behind them.  
They become silent again, but of course, Grif has to ruin the moment.

“D’you know how gay we just sounded?” Grif asks with a laugh, Simmons rolls his eyes. Dammit Grif.

“Shut up, fatass.” Grif snorts this time.

“Kissass.” It gets quiet again, before they burst out laughing. They haven't did that in a long time.

“Quit yer lollygagging, and get down here so I can yell at ya!” They hear Sarge demand from the bottom of the base. Grif groans, and Simmons chuckles at his misery.  
“Yes Sir!” Simmons yells, while running down to meet Sarge. Grif groans again, even louder.

“Kissass!” He yells, Simmons ignores him, which he soon realizes is a bad idea, because then the asshole takes his sweet time, to meet them by the bottom of the base. Fucking prick.

As they stand there, getting orders from Sarge, (it's mostly Grif arguing with Sarge) Donut stares at Simmons knowingly.

The Dutch-Irish doesn't notice though, Donut always stared at him. He's honestly gotten used to it by now.  
Neither Simmons or Grif ever mention what happened, they never do mention their moments though. They never thought to.

Simmons never asks him the question ever again, neither does Grif. They both know their answer now. They just didn't know what to ask next.

**Author's Note:**

> Ha, look at this crappy fic!¡! Thoughts on my crappy fic?¿? Sorry if there's any mistakes!!


End file.
